


God of the Grove

by Duchess_Of_Dumpsters



Series: Gay Gods [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Impulse has a big worry, M/M, Multi, My pen is a bit bloody, Permanent Death AU, Wounds, there's a storm of snow and fucking ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchess_Of_Dumpsters/pseuds/Duchess_Of_Dumpsters
Summary: Impulse and Zedaph live in a cabin in the mountains. Why? fuck if I know they just do. Until Zed goes off hunting and doesn't come back and Impulse has him a real big worry. He worry real hard.Also Tango is in this story too.
Relationships: Impulse/Zedaph, Team ZIT - Relationship, zedaph/impulse/tango
Series: Gay Gods [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755094
Comments: 22
Kudos: 127





	God of the Grove

**Author's Note:**

> Yeets this and then vanishes back into the void to continue working on my multi-chapter fics and screaming at adult responsibilities.
> 
> Please enjoy.

Worry.

The thing about that particular emotion, the way it gripped the heart like a vice.

The way crawled up the spine…

It was like frost on a window or freezing lake water.

Worry.

It had a way of seeping into every crevice of the mind, of clinging to every thought, twisting them to the worst.

Worry…

With each passing moment that it went undenied or unconfirmed… it only grew stronger. 

With each crunching step through the snow, with each howl of the wind, with each mile Impulse crossed without seeing a single sign of Zedaph’s passing…. The worry only grew.

Was this how it would be, was this how he would lose his lover? Vanished on a hunting trip never to be seen again? Silently Impulse cursed this cold, cruel mountain they called home. For the solace this place offered so far from society hardly seemed with the harsh conditions, the danger that existed purely to spite their attempts at survival. The cold of the wind bit at Impulse’s face like a stinging reminder just how treacherous it was out here.

Impulse paused, casting his gaze around the clearing, the snow looking dull with the clouds overhead. His dogs were the only ones leaving tracks, Zedaph’s tracks from the cabin were long covered and that left Impulse nothing to follow, even his tamed wolves were struggling to pick up a path. His eyes swept further out, to the shadows between the dark evergreen trees, to the slopes that started sweeping down the mountain. The space felt too confined and yet too open all at once, impossible to search, and yet he had to try.

Then, as the wind changed directions, as the clouds above shifted, as the world grew a little darker, a thought came to mind. Drawing in a steadying breath Impulse squared his shoulders and decided to try one last thing. One thing he and Zedaph had talked about but never had to do, he wasn’t sure it would work… but he had to try.

Impulse howled.

He put his heart into it, howling with all his might and mimicking the sound as best he could. He could only hope… He could only hope Zedaph could hear him, that he’d think to howl back. Lowering his gaze Impulse watched his wolves, watched as they all stood listening, looking around. The ears of one perked and she took several steps east, then she too, howled. Silence followed, at least, what seemed to Impulse to be silence, but he realized his pack could hear something he couldn’t. With a grain of hope he gave the command for them to follow and they did.

He fell into step behind the wolves as the wind picked up, slinging the sharp crystals of ice in his face as it began falling from the sky anew. The storm would only grow worse and he wasn’t leaving Zedaph lost out here with no hope of finding the warmth of their hearth. He ignored the chill that seeped through some of the gaps in his layers of clothing, the wind catching just right to sneak in and steal warmth. No, he had to stay focused and he knew it. Zedaph hadn’t been prepared for a storm when he headed out and this one looked to be building into something nasty.

Following his wolves down the slope and towards a treeline something caught Impulse’s eye, something moving in the evergreens but it was far too tall to be a person. He blinked, peering against the blowing snow and deepened shadows… but whatever it had been was gone now. He felt… a prickling run up his spine. There was the distinct feeling… of being watched.

One of the wolves howled again and they all paused to listen, Impulse couldn’t hear anything over the wind in his ears but they seemed to be fairing better. They continued on and he stuck close to them, worry deepening as the last of the sun’s glow vanished. It wasn’t so dark they couldn’t see, even with a starless night, the snow was so white it stood out against the darkness. The larger problem was the blowing sleet assaulting Impulse, caking to his hood and shoulders.

As they continued following the treeline, berated by wind and snow, Impulse caught movement in the trees once more, it startled him a little this time, so close and yet, somehow, not there at all. He almost felt like he was seeing things, things that weren’t there. But he couldn’t focus on that, he had his lover to find and the longer they went on the more worried he became that Zedaph might be trapped. The wolves howled every few minutes and eventually, Impulse could hear a sound being carried back to them on the wind, echoing strangely but sounding far too human to be another wolf.

That was enough to give him some hope and he trudged on, the snow threatening to give way awkwardly with every step. Even with his snowshoes, as if the snow and ice had settled badly in this area. He was still picking his stips carefully when he heard cracking and something falling, he saw one of his wolves back up and as he neared where they now stood, he could see a hole in the ground, just large enough for a person to have fallen through. Horror ripped through Impulse as he realized Zedaph must have reached a weak spot in this unsteady terrain.

Now Impulse turned his back on the wind, only now realizing just how cold he was as his hands felt numb. He shook and trembled as he struggled to light his lantern and quietly berated himself for not lighting it sooner. He managed to get the wick lit and the glass settled back in place finally though. Turning back around he edged closer to the hole before laying down, dispersing as much of his weight as he could and inching closer to the hole. He didn’t like how the edges crumbled but soon he was able to shine the lantern into the little cavern of ice below.

The little flame’s light danced and glittered off the icy walls, the space wasn’t very large, but it was just deep enough to be a problem… the bottom was littered with dense looking icicles, like this cave had tried to melt away in the spring but never quite managed more than its roof. That… was the least troubling of what he saw though. His stomach twisted and his heart plummeted when he realized what the dark form in the cave was.

_ Zedaph. _

Zedaph lay motionless amid shattered icicles and… a dark pool around him. He looked pale, he appeared to be unconscious. Suddenly Impulse got the feeling it hadn’t been Zedaph drawing them out here, it hadn’t been him calling out for help. There was no way, not from the state of him.

Impulse felt cold in too many ways and a part of him found it difficult to cling to hope. Part of him almost didn’t find the will to move, but rather to just… remain there. To give up.

The strange, echoed howl radiated out from the forest behind Impulse suddenly and the tall thing in the trees came to mind. It ran a chill up his spine but it was just enough to get him moving again. He slowly slipped back from the hole in the ground and headed for the treeline, not bothering to be afraid. If whatever was there wanted to hurt him it probably would have done so already.

No, he needed to focus on Zedaph.

He had to hold the hope that his lover was still alive.

He had to.

Digging in his pack he came free of it with a length of rope which he secured one end firmly to the nearest, sturdy-looking tree. That done he made his way back to the hole. He dropped the rope down and it was just long enough to pool a few coils around some of the standing spikes of ice. Another glance to his cold, numb hands reminded him that one wrong move would spell disaster for both of them.

There was no one else out here to rescue them.

He and he alone was Zedaph’s only chance.

Impulse wrapped the rope a few times around his arm before steadily shifting himself over, carefully trying to lower his body through the hole. Just as he was almost halfway, the ledge gave out, crumbling under him. He fell faster than intended, causing his body to jerk against the rope which went taught on his arms. He gasped in pain, dazed for a moment, but he was still hanging near the ceiling and his arm didn’t feel broken. With a steadying breath, he slowly started lowering himself down, doing his best to keep traction between the ice spikes. It was a bit difficult to navigate, especially with the width of his snowshoes.

Steadily he made his way over to Zedaph, kneeling beside him. Blood had pooled out and frozen, effectively freezing Zedaph to the floor of the cave. It appeared he’d landed on one of the ice spikes, piercing through him before melting most of the way. It was a gruesome sight but it looked like it had missed everything vital, as best Impulse could tell. However, that won’t have mattered if Zedaph bleed out. Quickly Impulse pulled a hand from one of his gloves and slipped it under the edge of Zedaph’s jaw, pressing two fingers there and waiting.

Perhaps his hands were dulled from the cold…

Perhaps Zedaph’s pulse was just weak…

Either way…

Impulse couldn’t feel it.

A shuttered, half sob escaped him, he couldn’t quite help feeling like hope was in short supply. He might be out of the wind now but his body ached from the cold and now, as he looked Zedaph over, he couldn’t think of what to do. It all seemed too much, too much for him to deal with alone, too much for him to handle. He was only one man, he wasn’t a doctor. He wasn’t even sure if it would be safe to move Zedaph in this state, but it wasn’t like he could stay here. Laying on the ice wasn’t going to do him any good but Impulse was terrified of making this situation so much worse.

Gently, he slid his hand up to caress Zedaph’s face, he could feel tears sliding down his own cheeks as he regarded those motionless features. A face normally so full of warmth and joy now cold and silent. Impulse’s lips split into a grimace as it settled in on his already heavy heart… that he’d been too slow.

That he’d… failed.

He’d…

_ Zedaph moved. _

Impulse nearly jumped out of his own skin when suddenly Zedaph leaned into his touch, pressing his cold face against Impulse’s fridged hand. Slowly his lover’s eyes flitted open, they didn’t focus well and the first thing Zedaph did was giggle deliriously.

“Oh no… I was late getting home with dinner.” Zedaph said, voice trailing in and out of strength but Impulse managed to catch every word in the little cavern.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about that right now. You’re hurt.” Impulse said gently.

“Just hurt? I’m…. Pretty sure I’m already dead… I mean, I think I am. I am in pain though. Aren’t the dead supposed to not… ya know, feel pain?” Zedaph rambled incoherently.

“You’re in pain because you’re alive, please, save your strength, I’ve got to get you out of here.” Impulse said, patting the air in front of him.

“OH LOOK! Is that…” Zedaph’s eyes went wide, looking at something behind Impulse.

“Is… what?” Impulse frowned.

“Is that a god? Should have known they’d look like deer.” Zedaph rambled and Impulse turned.

There was nothing there.

“Look how pretty he is… kinda scary too, with those red eyes. Are you here for my soul Mr. Deer God?” Zedaph asked and slowly Impulse looked back to his pale lover, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

“Zed, please, I need you to focus on me.” Impulse said calmly and Zedaph managed to tear his gaze off of whatever it was he was seeing.

“But he’s pretty.” Zed whined.

“Zedaph, please, I’m begging you… stay with me.” Impulse said, calm but pleading and something seemed to register in those hazy eyes.

“I… Don’t want to….. Leave you.” Zedaph muttered, his voice was a little weaker now though.

“Good, just, just hold on, okay?” Impulse asked and Zedaph nodded weakly.

With that settled Impulse took a knife and a hammer from his pack. He had to be careful in how and where he broke the ice that had Zedaph pinned, it was more than a little unnerving to break the bloody ice as well. It had frozen differently and had a different sound to it. Steadily and as quickly as he could Impulse freed Zedaph from the floor.

“He’s still there.” Zedaph said after a few minutes, attention behind Impulse again. Impulse stole a quick glance but again saw nothing, at first but when he looked back up out the hole he saw a dark figure towering out there. He felt that chill again, of being watched, of something large in the trees. He couldn’t make out more than a large, dark shape though… but after just a moment he realized…

He realized he could see glowing red eyes from that dark figure.

Impulse froze, startled and suddenly uncertain, he wasn’t sure if the presence was threatening or not but the way Zedaph was seeing it made him nervous. He wasn’t sure how long he was caught, staring at it before it made a noise. It sounded something like a deer but larger and ethereal, larger and majestic. Yet somehow, he caught meaning from it. He caught meaning enough to remember what he was supposed to be doing and quickly, he turned back to trying to free Zedaph.

Just as Zedaph came free he cried out in agony, the last of the jostling must have struck something not so numbed by the cold. Impulse flinched, apologizing profusely as Zedaph whimpered against the pain. All but slinging his tools back into his pack Impulse picked up Zedaph as carefully as he could. All too quickly he took note of the wet warmth of fresh blood spilling from Zedaph’s disturbed wound. Time was limited.

Very limited.

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” Impulse asked, holding Zedaph close as he carefully picked his way back through the field of ice spikes towards the rope. He could hear the wind howling above but he didn’t dare look out, he couldn’t feel eyes on him anymore though.

“We’re going… home?” Zedaph muttered, he sounded quite out of it at this point, head lulling against Impulse’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we’re going home.” Impulse assured him, reaching the rope and very carefully setting Zed’s feet on the ground.

This was going to be the hard part and he was so afraid of making Zedaph’s wounds that much worse. He didn’t really have any other options though. So carefully Impulse wrapped the rope around them both, supporting Zedaph with one arm as much as he possibly could.

“I need you to do your best to hold onto me, okay?” Impulse said gently, his own breath ghosting over Zedaph’s ear.

Zedaph said nothing but did as told, his grip wasn’t the strongest, and Impulse had to hope his ropework would hold. Steadily Impulse started hoisting them out, his arms burned in protest, especially the one that caught the brunt of his fall earlier but he grit his teeth and kept going. That was until something else started tugging at the rope from above. It was gentle at first, he almost thought he imagined it but then suddenly he and Zedaph were hoisted several feet into the air in one go, without falling back down. Impulse froze, feeling that prickling up his spine again.

He drew in a sharp breath as the rope was pulled again, dragging them that much closer to the edge of the cave. Another tug and he was able to grab hold of the icy, crunchy snow. He started to lift and another tug of the rope brought them all the way free. Zedaph let out a pained groan, hands clinging to Impulse weakly and as Impulse looked up… He saw his wolves, curled up against a snowdrift that had formed against the tree he’d tied his rope to. It was quite obvious, they hadn’t done the pulling. No… No, standing beside the rope, towering far over them was the largest deer he’d ever seen, impossibly large, four times the size of a normal stag. Its fur was golden, glowing faintly, enough to cast light against the storm. Its antlers had too many curling points to count and there were glittering stones caught in those antlers, they looked like little trapped stars. Its eyes glowed red but now, after this, now finally seeing it... 

“You’re right Zed… he is pretty.” Impulse said, awestruck. Zedaph made a pained but confirming noise, drawing Impulse’s attention back to him. Already the snow was taking on a red hue where he was laying.

Impulse staggered to his feet, carefully scooping Zedaph up in his arms then looking up at the great stag.

“Thank you.” He said, not sure what else he could say and he watched as it tilted its head curiously.

Impulse held Zedaph tightly and gave the command for the tamed wolves to follow then turned towards home. He trudged as carefully as he could through the risky terrain and he realized there was still eyes on him.

“I… love you…” Zedaph muttered weakly. Impulse only hearing it because Zed's head rested on his shoulder. The wind was at his back now, making it a little easier to…

The God-deer stood over them suddenly, lowering its head to look under itself and effectively block the path. The wolves huddled close to Impulse, looking to him for guidance, while they didn’t really seem afraid, they seemed uncertain what to do.

“Please…. Let me get him home, his wounds need treating, please.” Impulse called out, continuing to walk towards its face.

It blinked at them, and then it’s fur glowed all the brighter, for a moment, it was almost like the sun on a clear day, then it faded again to the soft glow it had been before. Impulse blinked against the sudden changes in light but as his eyes adjusted again… they were home. The deer god had lifted its head and he saw the cabin just past its legs.

Impulse rushed forward, doing his best not to jostle Zedaph too much but knowing how urgently Zedaph needed patched up. He all but kicked the door in, rushing inside and laying Zedaph on the kitchen table. With his lover settled Impulse rushed back for the door, brushing past the wolves as they darted in to curl up by the now low fire. Looking out the door Impulse met the glowing red eyes of the god-deer, its head lowered, chin in the snow, so it could look in.

“If you can somehow become smaller, you’re welcome inside.” Impulse assured it, curious if it understood at all. It didn’t move though so Impulse sighed and closed the door. He didn’t have time for this when his lover was literally dying.

In a rush, Impulse grabbed up what medical supplies they had and hurried back over to the table. Carefully he started peeling Zedaph’s snow-crusted, bloody clothing away, layer by layer. As he did that he heard the door open again, he cast a glance that way and wished he hadn’t, not because it was a bad sight but a distracting one.

Closing the door behind him, was easily the most beautiful person Impulse had ever seen, and that was saying something in comparison to Zedaph. Golden blonde hair still glowed softly, antlers curled up from his head, still adorned with glittering jewels. However, now the god-deer had the form of a human. His red eyes still glowing and striking, his features cut impossibly perfect. He cut an impressive silhouette but Impulse couldn’t spare any further time to stare, snapping his attention back to Zedaph.

Another piece of bloody clothing removed and tossed aside Impulse finally had a clear view of the wound. It was garish and likely worse on the other side. Impulse bit his lip, not sure if he could fix this but he set about trying. Near him, he heard the god shuffling through the woodpile and then the sound of logs being added to the dying hearth.

“Thank you.” Impulse said yet again, trying his best to wrap the wound. He heard the footsteps as the god came over, leaning on the table and looking Zedaph over. Impulse stole a glance, a quick one, and noted the concern that was painted all over it. He looked… surprisingly sad in those deep red eyes.

“Mortals are so… fragile.” He muttered and Impulse almost dropped the bandages. That voice rang out more beautiful than any instrument, any voice, anything at all that Impulse had ever heard.

“Unfortunately so… Is… is there anything you could do?” Impulse asked quietly, shaking a little. This god had already done much to help them, he didn’t want to seem ungrateful… but he was afraid. The god tilted his head a little, then sighed, it almost like he’d been holding some inner turmoil back.

“I’ve already helped this much, what’s a little more? I… honestly don’t want to see him die, as inevitable as it is for mortals.” He said, reaching out over Zedaph’s body. He closed his eyes, all of the jewels growing from his antlers started to glow more intensely, as did… the rest of him. After a moment some of that glow started trailing down, drifting and settling into Zedaph, seeping into his skin. Zedaph, too, started glowing softly and Impulse took a small step back, not wanting to interfere. He watched in silence, waiting to see any further change… and he realized it was happening before his eyes. The wounds were closing up, the color was returning to Zedaph’s skin. Impulse let out a long, relieved breath as the light faded and Zedaph was left healthy and whole. He was still unconscious but it looked to be a peaceful slumber now, nothing frightening.

Gently Impulse scooped Zedaph into his arms, moving slow and careful not to wake him. Zedaph made a contented noise, snuggling against Impulse but not quite waking. Impulse’s heart melted at that, the relief mixed with the love he felt almost overwhelming when combined.

“Thank you, thank you so much I don’t know how we’ll ever…” Impulse trailed off as he looked up, the god had vanished.

With an exhausted, disappointed sigh, Impulse carried Zedaph to bed, getting him settled there and debating what to do. His weary body begged him to lay down beside his lover and just sleep, but his heart, his mind, was too restless. He’d just met a god, nearly lost Zedaph and that’s not to mention the storm still wailing outside. With a small shake of his head, he made his way back to the door, slipping outside and looking around.

“I don’t know where you’ve gone… but… thank you, for everything. You are always welcome in our home and… I… I would be honored to speak with you again someday.” Impulse called out into the night. He felt somewhat crazy for the effort, but at the same time, there was no denying what had just happened.

There came nothing but stinging, windblown snow in response so after a moment Impulse headed back inside. He didn’t know much of anything about the gods, a few stray legends but not even enough to guess which one that had been, what his name might have been. Impulse wished he knew.

Peeling off unneeded layers as he went, Impulse headed for his bed. He felt like he would drop at any moment, it had been more than a long day. In all honesty, he was left wondering how much of it was even real. Slipping under the blankets, Impulse curled up with Zedaph, resting his head on his lover’s chest. He just… needed that extra reassurance of listening to the soft rhythm of Zedaph’s heart. To know he was there, he was alive, he wouldn’t be leaving Impulse behind.

Eventually, Impulse drifted off to sleep, the sound of Zed’s heart, the crackling of the fireplace, the soft snores of the tamed wolves.

It was all….

Missing something.

He wasn’t sure what that was though, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on… something…

Something…

His dreams rose up to claim him, pulling him into the realm of sleep like plunging into a lake, deep below the surface. It was heavy and his dreams felt fogged and unclear. He wasn’t sure of anything more than the feel of something brushing over his skin and the distant sound of voices.

He was pulled from his dreams briefly though when Zedaph kissed him, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to pull Zedaph into his arms and snuggle him, kiss him, but the pull of sleep tightened his hold. Again he drifted off, with dreams he wouldn’t fully remember when he woke but that mattered little. For as exhausted as he’d been when he laid down, he rested well, sleeping heavily for a while more.

That was, until, his dreams parted once more, releasing him slowly, lulled back to reality by the sound of voices. Zedaph’s was one and for a moment as logic tried to start its gears, Impulse thought his lover must be talking to the wolves. That thought was flung aside though, as Impulse came sharply the rest of the way awake at the sound of another voice.

A voice he hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to hear.

The blankets were cast aside almost too slowly for him to escape them as he stood. Impulse was staggering out of the room before his body was quiet awake enough to handle the movement. He rushed around the wall that separated the bedroom from the rest of the cabin only to find the very same god from last night now seated on the couch by the window. He was relaxed and watching Zedaph cook. Only then did the smell of breakfast reach Impulse, he glanced at his lover too, trying to get his brain to comprehend the conversation at hand.

“So it was you I saw then! Well I’m glad you weren’t there for my soul.” Zedaph was saying as he moved a pancake to a plate.

“Of course not! I’m not a god of death, I’m the God of the Grove, this grove, this mountain. I’ve been here since the beginning of time itself. Seeing you die would have brought me nothing but sadness.” The god explained, looking from Zedaph to Impulse and Impulse met his gaze, there was something there. Something just barely held back, something just barely kept quiet.

“I’m glad you helped then, I do very much enjoy being alive. I’ve got to admit though, being in a place like this since the beginning of time? That sounds, very lonely.” Zedaph noted, continuing to cook. There was a little something more to Zedaph’s tone, something Impulse recognized and he relaxed a bit, feeling a bit more confident in his own feelings.

“It… well, it is.” The god admitted as Impulse sat next to him.

“Does it have to be?” Impulse asked, drawing the god’s attention back to him again.

“Well… It always has been.” The god explained, glancing between him and Zedaph.

“I don’t think just because it always has been, means it always should be.” Zedaph said, glancing over his shoulder to offer a smile. That sweet, loving smile so well known for knocking Impulse off his feet.

“I… I guess you could be right.” The god said with a little uncertainty. Impulse reached up to brush some of that beautiful, glowing hair behind the god’s ear.

“Do you have a name, other than just what you are I mean?” Impulse asked softly and the god fell silent and thoughtful for a moment.

“Tango, you may call me that if you like.” He offered, seeming almost nervous to give his name.

“It suits you.” Zedaph said, setting the skillet aside and coming over to sit with them.

“You two make self-control very difficult, you know.” Tango said quietly, his face dusting a light red.

Impulse looked to Zedaph who met his gaze, he could see his feelings reflected back, and together they nodded, both looking back to the God in sync.

“What do you mean?” Zedaph asked and Tango let out an unsteady breath.

“Since you two came to this mountain I found you intriguing… I’ve watched over you, all these years as you settled in, called my home a home of your own. I… I fell in love with the both of you. I’m afraid for you, I don’t know what it will mean for mortals to feel the love of a god, like I feel for you.” Tango explained, letting it all go in one breath.

“Some things are worth the risk.” Zedaph said, trailing a finger along Tango’s jaw before hooking his chin and pulling him very close. Zedaph paused there though, with their lips just barely a hair apart, just enough the invitation was very clear but the decision was left up to the god. The slight hesitation that followed must have been the melting of Tango’s self-control before he gave in. He let their lips meet, surprisingly gentle it looked and Zedaph shivered under the god’s touch, moaning quietly into the kiss. Zedaph was left breathless and swooning when finally their lips parted again. Tango looked slightly worried, holding Zedaph steady.

Impulse rested a hand on Tango’s thigh, leaning a little closer and drawing the god’s attention to him. Tango drew a breath, the blush dusting his cheeks seeming to deepen but he seemed to catch the cues and leaned in to meet Impulse’s lips with his own. Impulse felt a shiver rip through him as well, like a charge of power rolling through his entire being, it was like becoming one with the stars, like flying and falling all at once. Like a whirlwind that picked up his heart and carried it away. He kept chasing those lips with his own as long as he could comprehend them but all too soon he was left gasping for air, too overwhelmed in the best of ways to even sit upright.

Finally, when he’d settled back to reality again he was being held close by Tango, Zedaph had already recovered. Impulse couldn’t stop the smile that curled his lips at the sight before him, of Zedaph running a line of kisses up Tango’s neck, leaving the god a flustered mess. The thought struck him suddenly, that it really must have been lonely, especially for Tango to hide away, afraid to share his feelings with him. All at once, Impulse wanted to banish that sort of fear away. He joined Zedaph in the game of flustering, though as he ran his own line of kisses down the god’s neck, he caught Zedaph’s hand in his own, interlocking their fingers.

Now…

Now nothing was missing.

Everything was just as it should be.

Impulse had never been so sure of anything else in his life.


End file.
